Chapter 71
The heated exchange had drawn a crowd, especially when whispers spread that the stunning woman before them was rumored to possess a coveted Black Card.
Murmurs rippled through the onlookers like wildfire.
“Is she for real? A Black Card at her age?”
“Don’t be naive. Power isn’t measured by birth years.”
“Better take a picture if you see her again. This is someone worth remembering.”
Dining at Jasmine Restaurant was never just about the food.
Many came seeking connections—deals sealed over wine, alliances forged in hushed conversations. A membership card here was a golden ticket to the elite.
Naturally, everyone was eager to know—was this woman the real deal, or just another pretender?
Isabella Sinclair stood with her arms crossed, her gaze icy as she regarded Ethan Blackwood and Sophia Kensington with undisguised contempt.
“I wasn’t planning on making a scene,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain. “But since you two insist on playing the fools, I might as well oblige.”
With deliberate slowness, she strode toward the identity scanner and pressed her palm against it.
The machine beeped.
A brilliant red light flashed, and an automated voice chimed, “Welcome, Black Card holder 001!”
Silence.
Then—gasps.
There were only ten Black Cards in existence.
And hers was the first.
That meant she wasn’t just a guest—she was someone close to the restaurant’s enigmatic owner.
The murmurs turned to outright shock.
“The owner handpicks those cardholders. Each one is a titan in their own right.”
“They say the owner moves in circles even the wealthiest can’t touch. For her to have the first Black Card… she must be someone extraordinary.”
Ethan’s face drained of color.
“No… that’s impossible.”
He had brought clients here countless times, leveraging his Silver Card for every advantage.
Now, the truth hit him like a freight train.
The woman he had dismissed as a mere housewife—the orphan with no connections—was standing before him as someone who moved in circles he could only dream of.
For the first time, he truly saw her.
Memories flashed—her deft hands shaping clay at the studio, the quiet intensity in her eyes as she crafted perfumes, the effortless grace with which she played the piano.
She was the same woman he had lived with for three years.
Yet, in this moment, he realized he had never known her at all.
Sophia’s face twisted with jealousy.
“She must have cheated her way into this!” she seethed internally.
Desperate to escape the humiliation, she clutched Ethan’s arm.
“Ethan, my stomach—it hurts. Let’s go.”
But Ethan didn’t move.
His grip on her slackened as he stared at Isabella, his mind reeling.
Frustrated, Sophia tugged harder.
“Ethan! I need to see a doctor!”
Still lost in thought, he absentmindedly pushed her away.
Instead, he grabbed Isabella’s wrist, his voice raw with disbelief.
“The pottery, the perfumes—fine, I was blind. But this? You’ve had a Black Card all this time? Were you laughing at me for three years?”
Isabella met his gaze with a cold smile.
“Ethan, did you forget? For three years, you and your mother drilled it into me that my only worth was as your obedient wife. You never asked for anything else.”
She tilted her head, her voice laced with bitter amusement.
“Remember when I offered to help with your business? You told me you preferred me quiet. That I was a pale imitation of Sophia.”
Her eyes flicked to Sophia, who was now fuming.
“Judging by how you’re ignoring your girlfriend’s pain just to confront me… I’d say you still have feelings for me.”
Ethan’s breath hitched—just for a second—before her mocking smile snapped him back to reality.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she said coolly. “The thought of you disgusts me.”
Ethan’s jaw clenched.
“You—!”
For a heartbeat, something in his chest ached.
Then, just as quickly, he smothered it.
“I want Sophia,” he ground out. “I could never want someone like you.”
